


Sam Wilson and the No Good Very Bad Road Trip

by rc1788



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Road Trip, Sam Wilson is So Done, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Sam/Bucky Week, bucky is the annoying big brother nobody asked for, sam and bucky road trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7264132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rc1788/pseuds/rc1788
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's not sure what he did to deserve this, but he is the captain of an expedition from New York to Texas, and Bucky is his copilot. Tony Stark needs a special part hand delivered to Houston, and there's something in it for Bucky.</p><p>Twenty-six hours of Sam and Bucky, Bucky and Sam, just guys being guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> #samwilsondeservesbetter2k16
> 
> This will be fun! So much fun! This is the camp counselor voice you use when you're not sure if it's going to be fun or not, so you're EXTRA EXCITED!
> 
> Fluff? Yes. Crack? Yes. Angst? PROBABLY. We've got it all right here, right now, in Sam Wilson and the No Good Very Bad Road Trip. you're welcome.

Truck Stop on Interstate 81 West  
30 Miles outside of Harrisburg, PA  
1300 Hours

“Do you have a quarter?”

Sam wordlessly reached into one of his pockets and handed Barnes a quarter. Didn’t ask any questions. Stark had given them each a cash card to use for the trip, but of course Barnes would find a way to bum money off of him anyway. Barnes muttered “thanks” and walked across the parking lot to the truck stop. Sam walked around to the back of the black SUV and opened the trunk. A wooden box with the Stark Industries symbol was secured in the cargo space, looking the same as when they left the Avengers Compound early that morning. Stark was very explicit about not opening the box under any circumstances, and, knowing that would only pique Sam and Barnes’s curiosities, he told them what it was.

“It’s a new part for a repulsor engine that improves on the previous ion fusion tech by creating a massive field of--”

“Okay, Stark, we get it, you’re smart and you like to make complicated breakable things.” Sam wasn’t in the mood for an advanced engineering lecture at 0500.

“It’s only delicate because it’s not with the rest of the engine. That’s why you’re taking it to Houston for me. It can’t handle the pressure changes of a flight.”

“Couldn’t you invent something to carry it in?” Barnes _would_ ask that.

“I _could_. But they want this part ASAP, and all of my other projects want all of their results ASAP, and I can’t expend valuable brain energy inventing high tech bubble wrap.”

Barnes _sighed_ and folded his arms.

“Besides,” Tony said without even taking a breath, “you have an appointment in Houston, Barnes.”

“I know.”

James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t get a driver’s license, much less a passport, and while Tony could have flown him easily to Houston on a private jet, Barnes actually _volunteered_ to ride with Sam all the way to Houston. Twenty-six hours, not counting stops. Luckily, Stark was loaning them a large SUV, so it would be nothing like their road trip in Germany.

“Hey.”

Sam almost jumped out of his skin. He didn’t hear Barnes approach him, but there he was.

“Can I have another quarter?”

“ _Why_?”

“Because one quarter isn’t enough. Things are expensive.”

“Yeah, I know. _Back in your day_ , you could get forty packs of cigarettes for a penny.” Sam found another quarter and dropped it into Barnes’s outstretched hand.

“No, you couldn’t.”

Sam waved Barnes away to go make his purchase. They decided this would be a quick restroom break, then they would eat lunch on the go. Luckily for them, their stops weren’t limited by needing to refuel. The SUV was a Stark product, and Tony assured them it could make the trip to Houston “at least nine times” without refueling.

After securing the truck, Sam ventured into the truck stop. He saw Barnes looking at, of all things, the clothing items that the store had to offer. Sam roamed the snack aisles and collected a few choice items to hold them over until later that evening when they could get a proper meal. They both agreed to get as many miles behind them as possible on the first day of driving.

Once Sam had made his purchases, he went back to the truck to wait for Barnes. He knew the truck had plenty of security features, but he didn’t like leaving it unattended. What anyone would do with Stark’s engine part was beyond him, but the world was a crazy place. For all he knew, there were bad guys out there that could make a super weapon out of the part to shoot down the moon.

Nothing like that would surprise Sam Wilson anymore.

Sam sat in the driver’s seat and watched for Barnes to come out of the convenience store so they could _leave already_ . About a minute passed, then another. Sam caught himself checking his watch almost every thirty seconds. Where was Barnes? Maybe he was using the restroom. Sam shifted in the seat and eventually got back out of the truck to wait standing up, as he’d have _plenty_ of time to sit later. Five minutes passed and he took out his phone. Oh, right. Messages.

Nat: have you killed barnes yet?

Sam snorted.

Sam: not yet  
Sam: he slept most of the ride  
Nat: haha  
Nat: u should look at snapchat!

Sam’s brow furrowed. He opened Snapchat and saw a message from Barnes. The snapchat contained a video of Sam driving and singing _Proud Mary_.

“Okay, I’m ready to go,” Barnes announced. Once again, he’d crept up on Sam and made him jump. He had a way of moving like a shadow, and that was all fine and good, considering what he was. “Oh, you got my snapchat.”

“Yeah. I did. Very cute, Barnes.” Sam quirked a brow. Barnes bought a new hoodie. Not just any hoodie. It was blue and red and had the symbol of Captain America cross the front. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Steve is a huge celebrity. You can get Captain America underwear, too. Did you know that?”

Sam was quiet.

“Sam.” Barnes’s eyes widened in awe, then a wicked grin crossed his face. “Do you _own_ Captain America underwear?”

“Let’s _go_.”


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam should have never given Bucky those two quarters.

I-80 West  
1500 Hours

Bucky waited for the perfect time to unleash his super weapon. It was mid-afternoon and both of them scarfed down their snacks about an hour ago. Sleep crept into Sam’s eyes, showed with each frequent yawn.  1500 hours was the worst part of the afternoon, in Bucky’s opinion, because it was too long after lunch and too early before dinner. It made him cranky. But he had a plan, just in case 1500 hours was Sam’s least favorite part of the day, too.

Sam never asked why Bucky needed two quarters. He was a very trusting man. Bucky’s eyes trailed over the dashboard and landed on the steering wheel where Sam’s left hand was poised at the top of the arc. His other hand was in his lap. Sam yawned as if on cue. Carefully, Bucky took his hand out of his pocket, put the plastic kazoo to his lips, and started making as much noise as possible.

“What the _hell_ , Barnes?”

Bucky turned his head toward Sam and started a tune that required a lot of staccato notes and dangerous arpeggios.

“Oh my fucking god!” Sam seemed angry for some reason, but he was also _laughing_.

Bucky made a sad descending sound with the kazoo, then he asked with it between his teeth, “You don’t like my music?”

“No! Here, play anything you want.” Sam tossed his phone into Bucky's lap. “My passcode is--”

“1-0-0-4.”

Sam gave him a sideways glare.

Bucky fumbled around until he found Sam’s music app, and he started a playlist called “jamz.”

Then Bucky had to endure the stories of every concert Sam had ever been to, which albums he owned on vinyl, and of course, Sam’s singing. For two hours.

Some of it went on Snapchat.

\---

Sam kept flipping through the satellite radio channels. Wouldn’t even keep it on the same channel for one song. Bucky thrashed for a second in his seat and then he reached out and smacked the radio power button _off_.

“Stop it!” he told Sam.

“You hurt the radio,” Sam said, almost pouting.

Minutes passed. Bucky enjoyed the silence more than ever. Just the hum of the road. Bucky curled up in the seat and pressed his forehead against the window.

Sam trailed behind a truck carrying lumber. Bucky pulled his hood up over his face. “Can you pass this truck?”

“Why?”

“Because there’s that movie where the logs fly off the truck and kill people.”

Sam made an almost inaudible sigh and signaled to pass the truck. Bucky glanced at the speedometer. 60mph.

“We’re never gonna get to Texas if you keep driving like a grandma.”

“Even if you _could_ drive this thing, I wouldn’t let you.”

“Why _not_?”

Sam looked over at him and scoffed. “Because you drive like the Fast and Furious, and I don’t wanna die in West Virginia.”

Then a voice echoed throughout the car, making both of them jump.

INCOMING CALL FROM: STEVE ROGERS

“Is Steve calling the car?” Bucky asked.

“The phone’s connected.” Sam pressed a button on the dashboard to accept the call. “Hi, Steve.”

“Steve!” Bucky said.

“Hey, fellas. How’s it going?”

“Steve!” Bucky said again. Steve’s face was on the dashboard screen. In real time! “You’re in the car!”

“Uhh,” said Steve.

“Can you see us?” Sam asked.

“No. Tony just told me to hold the phone like this when I called.”

Bucky started poking the screen. “I’m touching your face!”

Steve’s head tilted just-so and he let out a chuckle. “Where are you guys?”

“In hell,” said Sam without missing a beat.

“Tennessee!”

“We’ve got less than two hours to Knoxville. Think that’s where we’ll stay the night. Where are you now, Steve?”

“Back at the compound. Nat says hi.” Steve looked at something behind his phone and mouthed _what_. “She wants to know what the car smells like right now.”

Bucky looked at Sam, who caught his eye for a second. “Like the inside of a Taco Bell bag,” Sam said.

Bucky didn’t quite get it, but they heard a cackle from Steve’s phone that had to belong to Natasha.

\---

1700 Hours

The silence was killing Sam. Twelve hours on the road and he was ready to fall asleep. He needed to listen to music to keep himself occupied for a few more minutes, just enough to get into Knoxville. He couldn’t tell if Bucky was awake or asleep, and if he was asleep, he’d fallen asleep with the kazoo in his mouth.

Carefully, Sam grabbed his phone from where it sat in the cupholder and opened the camera app without looking away from the road. He held the phone out and snapped a picture. _Ha, got him_.

Soft kazoo toots emanated from beneath Barnes’s hood. He was definitely asleep. Sam put his fist to his mouth to contain his laughter. He hit the steering wheel and tried not to full-on cackle.

The kazoo honked and Bucky woke with a start.

By now, Sam was nearly crying from trying to keep from laughing, and he was completely out of breath.

“What?” Bucky demanded.

“I can’t--” Sam gasped for air.

“You’re gonna kill us.”

“No, I’m not.” Sam wiped his eyes with his finger. “I gotta call it a day.”

The minute Sam pulled the car into a parking spot, he posted the picture (albeit blurry) of Barnes asleep with the kazoo in his mouth, to be forever remembered on Instagram. It was too good for Snapchat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small silly update for this fic!
> 
> If you don't think Sam sings all his favorite tunes the entire way, then you're WRONG. :)


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Bucky have a little heart to heart...
> 
> Then Bucky drives the car!
> 
> Reminder: Bucky is not allowed to drive the car.

“C’mon, man.” Bucky dropped his backpack on the floor of the motel room and looked at Sam, then at the lone queen-sized bed.

“It’s the only room they have. Don’t like it, you can sleep in the car.”

The stench of cigarettes, Pine Sol, and something Bucky didn’t want to identify, was palpable in the air. Like a thick dust Bucky wanted to wash off. Bucky walked over to the bed and threw off the worn comforter that covered the bed sheets. Then he looked at the bed, under the mattress, and beneath the pillows, and he shrugged at Sam.

“It’s just for one night.” Sam crossed the room and opened the door to the small bathroom, his nose scrunching. “Just for one night,” he repeated with less gusto.

“I’m gonna sleep in the car.”

“ _Really_ ?” Sam asked, folding his arms. “You’ll share a bed with Steve but not _me_?”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat and he knew he had failed to hide the surprise on his face at the question. “It’s not--”

“It’s _okay_. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“No, I don’t really care about that. It’s just…” His hand flew over his hair, brushing it out of his face, and he placed a hand on his hip. “I don’t sleep very well.”

Sam’s arms went limp at his sides. His wordless gaze made Bucky fidget, shifting his weight to one side.

“So I’ll sleep in the car,” Bucky said.

“Don’t do that. Sometimes I don’t sleep so well either. We can sleep not so well, together.”

Bucky sputtered, laughing. “Do you think about what you wanna say before you say it?”

\---

“Hey!”

Sam pulled his mind out of the fog, out of the dream, and back to the grimy hotel room. Barnes was over him, cold metal fingers clenched on his shoulder.

“You were making a weird noise,” Barnes murmured.

Sam pressed his palms into his eyes. “Bad dream.”

He heard Barnes get up and go to the bathroom. The sink turned on. Sam balled up the images from his dream and dumped them from his memory. A stupid dream about nothing. Still scared him all the same.

Barnes returned with a cup of water. Sam mumbled thanks and took it. Barnes kept standing there and Sam squinted up at him. “What? Nothing you or I say will make it stop.”

“I know. But if you wanna talk about it.”

Sam pushed himself into a seated position and leaned back against the pillows. “It was just a stupid nightmare. Some guy… really tall… in a black cloak….”

Barnes was snickering, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry. I forgot… you can have nightmares like that…”

With a sigh, Sam downed the rest of the water and set the cup aside. “Are you nervous about Houston?” he heard himself ask.

“Yeah." Barnes cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders. "I’m nervous they can’t help me. Even the best neuroscientists... I'm just not getting my hopes up.”

Sam nodded as he watched Barnes, sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched over. Sam’s brow furrowed and he held back the thoughts burgeoning in his mind. This wasn’t the first time someone he knew couldn’t shake the bad stuff. Sometimes they just stopped asking for help. Other times, the help they got wasn’t enough, and they lost hope. Sam couldn’t let that happen to Barnes.

“You’re fine just the way you are, you know,” Sam said.

Barnes exhaled, wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I put everyone at risk.”

“‘Everyone’? Like who, exactly? You live with the Vision, Scarlet Witch, Tony Stark, Black Widow, _Captain America_ , and of course, the Falcon. You think if something goes wrong, we’re not the best group of people to bring you back?”

“I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“Neither do I. But I elbowed Natasha in the head reaching into a cabinet two days ago. Shit happens.”

Barnes turned away from Sam and wrung his hands in his lap. “If I’m being completely honest here, I’m not looking forward to being somebody’s lab rat again, either.”

Sam smiled and swung his hand at Barnes’s shoulder. “Do what you’re comfortable with. I’ll be there with you. So will Steve.”

The smallest of smiles crossed Barnes’s face, and he looked over at Sam with a nod. “I guess… I miss the old days. Things were simpler. And Steve was a little easier to keep out of trouble.”

“You could fling him over your shoulder back then.”

“Yeah. Now it's a lot harder. And he doesn't need me like that anymore.”

“He still needs you. Trust me, I was there the two years in between the fight in DC and Bucharest. Guy was borderline obsessed with finding you.”

“He had you, too.” Barnes's face angled down, but Sam swore he was blushing. “You're a good friend. Steve puts on a brave face around me, and… That's why he's got you.”

“Me?”

“Steve lets his guard down around you. He trusts you.”

Sam wasn’t sure how to take that. He trusted Steve, and after what they’d been through, he knew Steve trusted him. But to hear it… from Bucky Barnes…

“Don’t go getting any ideas.” Barnes smacked him on the leg. “I’m still number one.”

“ _Please_.” Sam tsked. “You both need me, or else you’d be lookin’ for a payphone the minute your cell phone dies.”

“What?”

Sam laughed.

“What? What’s wrong with payphones?”

“Nothin’. Go back to bed, man.”

\---

0600 Hours

Bzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzt.

Bleary-eyed, Sam swung his arm over to the nightstand to get his phone. “Hullo?”

“Wilson!” Stark was livid. “You were supposed to be on the road an hour ago. And Barnes is gone. So much for you being the responsible one!”

“What time--” Sam rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked at the clock. “Oh. Well, shit.” As Stark already pointed out, Barnes was nowhere to be found. Sam got up and looked in the empty bathroom to be sure. “His stuff is still here.”

“He took the car somewhere and he is not picking up his phone. Would you track him down and get back on the road? I do not want to make a call saying the Winter Soldier committed grand theft auto.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Stark panicking from hundreds of miles away should not have gotten his heart racing. Logically, Barnes was coming back. His journal and everything were still here. Unless he was kidnapped. No, that would be impossible. Besides, Sam deserved to be kidnapped too. He was also a famous internationally renowned superhero.

Sam stepped outside of the room and sighed into the summer heat. A black SUV swung into the parking lot and parked in front of him. Barnes hopped out of it and held up a bag of McDonald’s like a trophy. “Breakfast!”

“You got mama Stark all in a tizz.”

“Oops.”

Five hundred miles away, Tony’s workstation alerted him to an incoming message. A picture appeared of Barnes and Wilson eating McGriddles on top of his Stark Industries box in the back of the truck. They were both giving thumbs up.

A caption accompanied the picture: The kids are alright!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having fun writing this 26 hour Team Building Exercise.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Bucky get stuck in a traffic jam. Back at the Avengers Compound, Natasha finally _finally_ catches up on Scandal.
> 
> Oh, and Tony says some _bad words_.

Nat: can you send steve a text or something  
Nat: he keeps worrying and talking to me   
Nat: im trying to watch scandal  
James Barnes: yup ok

Instagram Video Upload by obviouslybucky  
0:30

Bucky directs the phone camera to the driver’s seat where Sam has his forehead pressed to the top of the steering wheel. “Explain to the folks back home what’s going on,” Bucky says.

“I’m _freakin’ out_.” Sam hits his head on the steering wheel. “I’m freakin’ out!”

“Why’s that?”

“Because!” Sam’s had swivels to face the camera, his eyes wide. “We’ve been in stop and go traffic for an hour. _An hour_!”

Bucky chuckles.

“And _this guy_.” Sam leans over the wheel and points at another car.  Bucky turns the camera to show a Nissan Sentra with its left signal on. “He’s signaling he wants to come into my lane. Why? Why’s he gotta do that?”

“I dunno.”

“He was in this lane five minutes ago and he left, because he’s a _traitor_ , and now he wants back in?”

“That’s rude,” Bucky agrees with a snicker.

“It’s not like traffic’s moving faster in this lane or that lane! I’m not letting him in. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy.”

Sam throws himself back into his seat and holds his head in his hands. “Fuck this shit!”

“You’re being dramatic, Samuel.”

Sam inhaled, then exhaled, making a drawn out groaning sound. “I know. But this is the worst.”

\---

Natasha grinned wickedly when Steve looked up from the video to her face. “They’re doing just fine,” Natasha said.

“Sam seems…”

“He’s letting off steam.”

Steve folded his arms over his chest and looked at the TV, where Kerri Washington stood poised over a very messy office desk. “I guess I should start getting ready for Houston.”

“Great idea!” Natasha resumed watching the episode of _Scandal_ and took a sip from a colorful can of seltzer water. “Bye.”

Steve shuffled out of the commons, dejected, because he knew when he wasn’t _wanted_.

\---

“I can drive,” Bucky offered. They were still sitting in bumper to bumper traffic.

Sam leveled a glare at him that was a definite _no_. But then he  lifted his hands off the steering wheel and dropped them in utter defeat. “Fine.” Sam pushed open the car door.

Bucky jumped out of the car and they ran to the other side, slid back into their respective seats, and shut the doors in tandem. The traffic jam was still in full force, and they both grinned at each other as they fastened their seatbelts.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Sam said. “All four wheels must remain on the pavement. No Fast and Furious shit.”

“What? Why would I veer into the shoulder and pass everyone until we’re through the traffic?”

“ _Do not_.”

Bucky traced the steering wheel with his finger and smirked. Between Sam riding with Natasha and Bucky, he was a little leery about letting either of them drive.

“I’m gonna take a nap, if that’s all right with you,” said Sam.

\---

_According to Fleck’s research, dog owners are ten times more likely to hold doors for strangers…_

It wasn’t that the radio show was terribly interesting (actually, it _was_ , in its own quirky way), but the soothing sound of the reporter’s voice interspersed with calm musical interludes kept Bucky occupied. Traffic dragged them along like a leaf in a stream hitting every single possible obstacle. Slow, but steady.

Sam was curled up in his side, tangled in the seat belt, his face smashed up against the headrest of his seat, and he was snoring. Bucky reached for his phone at one point, but decided against it. Let the man rest.

Besides, he had to make up for lost time in the traffic jam. Bucky signaled to get into the left lane, noted the speed limit, and vowed never to go 5 mph over. But he definitely needed to pass the red station wagon. And the semi truck. And the guy riding a motorcycle with three wheels. And the minivan. Bucky was almost 10 mph over the speed limit in the fast lane and he didn’t care, as long as the highway stretched out in front of him uninhibited, he was going to _drive_.

“We moving again?” Sam mumbled. He yawned and stretched out his arms and legs, but didn’t get up.

“Yup.”

Sam was quiet for a few minutes, busying himself with readjusting his seat. Bucky swore he saw him wipe a skein of drool from the side of his face, but he wouldn’t mention it. Sam checked his phone and let out a dramatic sigh.

“Sam?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you volunteer for this?”

Sam didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the phone in his lap. “Because Steve was busy.”

“Oh.” Bucky felt a frown tug at his mouth and he couldn’t figure out why.

“And I wanted to do something nice for Tony.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“And,” Sam reached over and tapped his fist on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m okay with the company.”

“Cool.” Bucky smirked. “That’s _really nice_ of you to say, Sam.”

“See? It’s this biting sarcasm that I have to put up with!”

“I don’t know what you mean. We’re having a perfectly pleasant conversation. In fact, I’m _okay_ with it. I'm even going to let you play some music because we are having such a _grand_ time.”

“I hate you.” Sam switched off the talk radio and connected his phone to start playing music.

Bucky peeled his eyes away from the road just long enough to get a look at Sam’s irritated face. As if in retaliation, Bucky kept passing cars at 10 mph over the speed limit, hoping Sam wouldn’t notice.

A few minutes later, Sam was belting out _hold me closer, tiny dancer_ in a surprisingly competent falsetto while Bucky seethed and gripped the wheel almost _too_ hard.

“Count the headlights on the highwaaay,” Sam sang, then he pretended he was playing piano with the song.

“I regret this,” Bucky said, but Sam couldn’t hear him over his singing.

“Lay me down in sheets of linen. I had a busy day todaaaay.”

“This song doesn’t even make _sense_!”

 _That_ interrupted Sam. Bucky knew he could break his concentration by bringing up any one of their thousands of age-old arguments. This one being _modern music sucks_ . “It doesn’t have to, Barnes. It’s Tiny Dancer by Elton John. It just _is_.”

Bucky smirked, shook his head, and Sam finished the rest of the song slightly quieter but with the same enthusiasm as before.

“Hey,” Bucky said after a while, “I got you a present.”

“A present?” Sam’s tone reeked with suspicion.

“Yeah. It’s in a bag in the front pocket of my backpack.”

Sam reached into the back of the car and started rifling through Bucky’s backpack. Bucky didn’t really care if Sam went through his stuff at this point, as long as he left the red book alone. Besides, Bucky mused, his backpack mostly consisted of dirty underwear at this point in the trip, so it was Sam’s funeral if he got into the main backpack pocket. Finally, Sam produced the said bag and unwrapped the plastic.

“New sunglasses?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. They’re from a gas station but it was the best I could do.”

The sunglasses were black aviators with dark polarized lenses. “Thanks. These might even be cooler than the shades you lost.”

“That Steve lost.”

Another argument of the century of _who lost Sam’s sunglasses_ , Bucky couldn’t help himself because he would never accept the blame for Steve dropping the sunglasses into the lake. Even if Bucky stole them in the first place.

Sam seemed satisfied enough not to argue his point as he smirked and put on the new pair. “Not bad, Barnes.”

\---

_Meanwhile, at the Avengers Compound_

“You can take the quinjet, if you want,” Tony was saying as Steve packed his bag.

“Sounds good. Thanks, Tony.”

Tony lingered in the doorway to Steve’s room, leaning up against the frame. He was barefoot, unshaven, wearing a tshirt that was practically fused with his own skin from the looks of it. Steve paused as he was about to close the suitcase. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” The lift in Tony’s voice was so deliberate that it seemed forced. “I’m fine.”

Steve turned to him and honed in with that crease in his brow like he was staring right through Tony. The Stark didn’t budge, just motioned with his hand as if inviting Steve to make his speech.

“What’s up?” is all Steve asked.

“Nothing.”

“Did I hear you talking to Pepper this morning?”

“I dunno, _did_ you?”

Steve smiled. “Tell her I said hi.”

“She just wanted an update on The Fugitive.”

“Ah.”

An alarm started blaring from down the hall. They exchanged similar looks of panic before Tony took off for his office, Steve following closely behind. As Steve stumbled into the office over a tool Tony left sitting on the floor, he found Tony bent over his desk and frantically pulsing through holoscreens.

“Fuck me,” Tony swore.

“ _What_? What’s going on?”

“They’re getting pulled over.”

“ _Pulled over_?”

“I do _not_ have time to repeat myself right now, Rogers.” Tony threw the GPS tracking signal onto a bigger screen so Steve could see. The satellite view showed the black SUV that Sam and Bucky were driving pulled over in Louisiana on the side of the highway. They were on a bridge that crossed a swamp. A state trooper vehicle was parked behind them with its lights on.

“Jesus Christ on a hoverboard.” Tony sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, then he looked back at Steve. “It’s Hydra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so so sorry for the long wait! I maybe, kind of, have been writing too much stucky (see: the rest of my fics).
> 
> I swear I'm going to be nicer to Sam someday, he really deserves a dozen roses, an uninterrupted nap, and about twelve hours of soothing cuddles.
> 
> BUT NOT YET B)
> 
>  
> 
> [come bother me on tumblr why don't you](http://misterbuckyrogers.tumblr.com)


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Sam fight off the disguised Hydra agents, but things get messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky says "ah, geez" like Jerry Gergich and you can't tell me otherwise.
> 
> This chapter is full of too much snark.

Sam grabbed the front of Barnes’s hoodie and pulled him. “We need to _switch places_.”

“But--” Barnes growled at him.

“You’re a wanted man on, like, every continent and you don’t have a driver’s license. _Move_ , idiot!”

They threw off their seat belts and Barnes dove underneath Sam as he climbed over him. Sam took an elbow to the gut, and he was pretty sure he stepped on Barnes’s head, but after a few seconds of scrambling and _fuck you_ ’s, Sam was back in the driver’s seat.

He gripped the wheel like his life depended on it and glanced in the rearview mirror at the trooper’s car, red and blue lights flashing.

A blinking icon appeared on the car’s onscreen dashboard. “Tony is calling us,” Barnes said, pressing the icon.

“Listen up, Thelma and Louise. Those are _not state troopers_. It’s Hydra.”

“Ah, geez,” muttered Barnes.

Tony’s image on the screen showed him leaning over his desk, and he looked white as a sheet. “You need to get the hell out of there. I’m going to remotely activate the car’s defense mech--”

The transmission fizzled out. “Shit!” Sam pressed the onscreen commands, tried recovering the call. “Jamming signal. Damn it. I’m thinking we--”

“Throw it in reverse,” Barnes told him, unbuckling. “I’m taking them out.”

“Are you crazy?!”

Barnes looked at him, wide eyes blazing, metal fingers closing into a fist in his lap. Sam mumbled “fuck this shit” as he jammed the SUV into reverse. Better to die fighting than running--a stupid motto, but one he stuck to.

The tires squealed. Barnes climbed out of his seat, toward the back of the SUV, and threw himself over the Stark Industries box. Before Sam could tell him otherwise, he heard Barnes open the door.

More specifically, Sam heard the grinding and breaking of metal as Barnes apparently _ripped the door off_.

_Wham_! The car crashed into the trooper’s front end with a hideous crunch.

\---

_Meanwhile, back at the Avengers Compound_

“What’s up?” Natasha asked, even though she knew the alarm from Tony’s office was his _oh, shit_ siren.

Neither Steve nor Tony turned around, both focused on a satellite feed of what was apparently Wilson and Barnes’s SUV smashing into a police car. Natasha smirked. “Oh,” she said, amused.

“How fast can I get there?” Steve asked Tony.

“An hour. It’ll be over before then. This piece of crap jamming signal-- _here we go_.”

Natasha squinted at the satellite feed. A man wearing a blue hoodie and sneakers was using a car door as a shield. The “state troopers” started firing at him. Barnes, the door-wielding idiot, smashed through the windshield of the trooper car with his fist. Natasha couldn’t help but notice just how good Stark’s satellite uplink was because she could actually _see_ the glass shattering.

Barnes yanked the driver over the dashboard as the police cruiser jerked backwards and stopped. Tony, Steve, and Natasha winced as Barnes dropped the Hydra agent in front of oncoming traffic. Sparks flew off the shield-door, bullets colliding with metal, and Barnes ducked into a defensive position on the car hood.

“Did you give them any weapons?” Natasha asked.

“Well--”

Now Natasha saw Wilson, wielding what looked like the world’s tiniest handgun, returning fire from the driver’s seat window. Natasha _sighed_. “The next time you send Wilson and Barnes on a cross-country road trip, I’m handling the supplies.”

“Why would they need even a _single_ assault rifle just to go into a rest stop, Romanov?” Tony snapped back. He was still getting the car’s remote access rebooted and the task was frustrating him to the point where his voice was almost an octave higher.

“This is Barnes and Wilson we’re talking about.” Natasha glanced at Steve, who looked like he was watching a natural disaster unfold. He sucked in a breath between gritted teeth and couldn’t seem to look away, even if he wanted to.

“What does Hydra want, anyway?” Natasha asked, trying to keep a conversation going. “I thought the package was a new repulsor part.”

“It’s specifically an energy conversion device, which--” Tony paused and looked over his shoulder at her. “Hydra thinks they can use for a weapon.”

“Of course.” Natasha waved her hand as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Bucky’s got Hydra’s Winter Soldier journal with him,” Steve murmured.

“The pages are gone, Steve.”

“I know, but--what if they don’t make it out of there? Hydra could use the book and start all over again.”

“This is Barnes and Wilson we’re talking about,” Natasha repeated, slapping Steve on the back as she pointed back up to the screen.

Barnes extracted a second Hydra officer from the passenger seat, tossing him aside like a rag doll. Natasha and Steve both gasped as the officer hit the concrete wall and flipped over the side of the bridge. Meanwhile, Sam took a position in the back of the SUV and picked off another one with his pistol.

“I’m going,” said Steve.

Natasha let him by, her brow crinkled. She wanted to go. Kind of. She was bored. Then again, she only had one more season of Scandal before she was caught up.

\---

Sam could barely see into the back of the police car where Barnes climbed in to get the last officer. He squinted and kept the pistol up, trying to take aim. From what he could tell, Barnes was beating the Hydra agent with the battered door-turned-shield. When the agent stopped screaming, Barnes stopped and threw the door into the seat, and Sam winced at the splattering of blood on the metal.

Breathless, Barnes climbed out of the shattered windshield and onto the hood of the police car. His hair was in his face and his foot slipped out from under him, but he caught himself on his knee. He looked up at Sam. His face was pale despite the heat, eyes unreadable and burning with the adrenaline of the fight. Sam should have scolded him for being so reckless, for fighting four guys at once without a plan. Instead, Sam grabbed a fistful of Barnes’s hoodie and hauled him into the back of their car. “We gotta get moving.”

“Yeah,” Barnes panted.

The two crawled into the front of the car again and Sam took the wheel. Barnes settled into the passenger seat and stared straight ahead as Sam floored it.

“Tony’s calling,” Barnes said. “And you’re hurt.”

“Huh?” As if on cue, Sam’s shoulder burned. He glanced at the ripped sleeve of his shirt and the bright red blood, and he sucked in air between his teeth. “It’s a scratch.”

Barnes hadn’t answered Tony’s call yet. Sam could barely concentrate on the road, much less answer the call. Tony could probably take over the dash--

“Guys, c’mon.” Tony’s face appeared on the dashboard screen. He smirked but his forehead shined with sweat. “I was being polite. Everyone okay?”

“We’re fine. Package is fine,” said Sam, guiding the car into the fast lane and accelerating.

“I lost remote access to the car during the fight. Hydra was using a jamming signal that I’ve never seen before.”

Sam was still reeling. The whole fight took less than five minutes. He should have been used to getting shot at out of nowhere like that, but maybe you’re never fully prepared, no matter how many wars you’ve fought in. Sam struggled to control the beat of his heart.

“I’m uploading coordinates to the navicomputer now. Rogers is going to meet you there in forty-five minutes. I can put the car on autopilot.”

“Do it,” Sam said.

“All right. Keep me updated.” Tony patted the side of the screen as if he had reached out and touched them all the way from New York. “Rogers will meet you at the RV. Over and out.”

The onscreen dashboard flashed and the car jerked for half a second before maintaining its own speed, and the steering wheel went stiff as the automated controls took over. Sam dropped his hands in his lap and looked over at Barnes. His face was ashen and he was still breathing fast and erratic--

Sam’s jaw dropped. “You got shot. You idiot!”

“Huh?” Barnes looked down and saw the blood stain seeping onto his hoodie. “No. _No no no_.”

Sam practically threw himself at Barnes and yanked the hoodie open, peeled it away, and saw the gunshot wound in his lower abdomen. The bottom of his gut dropped out and his brain switched to full panic mode--it wasn’t just a graze, it was _bad_ \--

Sam pulled his own shirt off and pressed it into the wound, and Barnes yelped.

“Ah--geez--that hurts--” Barnes threw his head back against the headrest and clenched his teeth.

“Barnes, listen to me. You gotta stay with me, okay?”

Barnes groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Did I get blood on my jacket?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“ _No_.” Barnes made a sound that sounded like a whine and grasped at the fabric of his hoodie, which Sam had pulled halfway down his shoulders. “ _Shit_. And it’s on your shirt.”

“Whatever, man. It’s okay. I’m trying to keep you from dying right now.”

“I’m not gonna die…”

“Good. That’s real reassuring.” Sam got his knee on the center console and raised himself out of his seat so he could get a better angle and press on the wound.

“No, really… I’ve had a lot worse…”

“Sure.”

Barnes raised his big blue saucer eyes at him, a look of pleading as if to say _believe me_ . Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and looked back down at the wound. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He didn’t dare move his hands away. _Just keep applying pressure_. “Steve’s gonna be here soon, and if he sees you bleeding out, he’s gonna have a cow.”

“Yeah.” Barnes snorted, then he winced. “Yeah, he is.” His eyes rolled up at the ceiling, got a little distant.  “Good thing I got a medic, huh?”

\---

US-90  
Crowley, LA  
1400 Hours

Sam eventually found a proper medkit and got Barnes’s wound packed and wrapped, but not without complaints.

“Ow!” Barnes snapped as Sam ripped medical tape off his skin and repositioned it. “You’re the worst nurse in the world. Maybe the galaxy. _Ow_.”

Sam did it again, this time just for fun.

“Universe,” Barnes rasped, letting Sam put his arms around his torso to finish the wrapping. Barnes’s head slumped against Sam’s shoulder as he worked. While Sam didn’t usually let Barnes in his personal space for fear of injury, this was a special situation. Life or death and all. Nevermind that Sam wasn’t wearing his shirt.

When Sam was finished wrapping the bandages around Barnes’s back, he pushed Barnes back into the seat, grateful for some space between them so he could go back to concentrating. “Would you relax? You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“See? That was just… so clinical… Nurse Wilson...”

“Listen, Barnes.” Sam thrust a bottle of water into his hand. “I’ve been trying really hard not to say ‘I hate you,’ cuz I don’t want those to be my last words before you die.”

Barnes sipped the water. He stared at Sam, his eyes were a little bleary from the pain medication Sam made him take. “That’s sweet of you.”

Sam shifted in his seat, remembering his discarded shirt on the floor. He had Barnes reclining in the passenger seat with a blanket draped over him. The wound was a graze--a deep one--but Sam had seen soldiers survive a lot worse. And Barnes wasn’t an ordinary man, anyway, although nobody knew _exactly_ what he was capable of.

Those big blue eyes vanished beneath droopy eyelids and Sam finally relaxed into his own seat. Let his mind go just for a second, now that Barnes was stable. The car cruised along the country highway at a steady pace, and Sam noticed that they were less than twenty minutes from the RV.

“Your arm,” Barnes reminded him.

The medkit looked like it survived an explosion in the backseat from Sam tearing through it. He grabbed the nearest piece of gauze and stuck it to his wound with a wince. The silence in the car made him feel empty so he flipped on the radio, set the volume low for background noise.

“Why didn’t you let Stark put you on a quinjet to Houston for your meeting?” Sam asked, pressing the gauze into his shoulder wound. “Why’d you come with me?”

Barnes’s chin dropped to his chest. “What the--” Sam waved a hand in front of Barnes’s face. No response. His eyelids squeezed shut. Sam patted him on the cheek. “Hey. Hey!”

“Sorry,” mumbled Barnes, “just trying to slip into unconsciousness to get out of this conversation.”

“I hate you.”

\---

“...Tony’s been tracking a few leads…”

“...coming back, or should we scrap this…”

Bucky was lying down, his head cradled in somebody’s lap. As he slowly woke up, he became aware that the two voices speaking were Sam and Steve. Steve was sitting a few feet away--in the driver’s seat. Which meant Sam…

“Well, if it ain’t Sleeping Beauty.”

Bucky squinted up at Sam’s grinning face. Bucky sprawled across the back seat, and Sam was the one holding his head in his lap. “Mmph,” Bucky muttered, sleep creeping across heavy eyelids. He smushed his face into Sam, who smelled like sweat and Old Spice.

“Bucky doesn’t like waking up,” he heard Steve say.

“You really like sleep jokes, don’t you, Rogers?” This voice was new--Natasha--speaking over the com.

“I thought we were on com silence, Romanov,” Sam said.

“Com silence is for pansies who don’t know how to secure a channel.”

“Was that directed at me?” Stark cut in.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Everybody is so loud,” Bucky groaned into Sam’s shirt. His head was still spinning from the pain medication, but keeping his face up against Sam seemed to ground him, so he stayed put.

“Hit him with another dose of morphine, Wilson,” said Natasha. “He’s _whiny_.”

“Can we please maintain com silence?” Steve said.

“Are we supposed to respond to that, Cap, or stay silent? That’s not clear to me, since you asked a question. You want a reply, right?”

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve growled.

“Shut uuuup,” Bucky whined.

“See? Whiny,” said Natasha.

“I’m closing all the main channels. You can reach us on the emergency com. Rogers out.”

_"Thank you_ ,” said Bucky.

“Buck,” Steve said, glancing over his shoulder with a smile. Bright sunlight silhouetted his face and Bucky smiled back. “I’ll bring you up to speed.”

“No, let me rest.”

“He needs his rest, Steve,” Sam agreed in his best concerned mom voice.

“At least you’re both in agreement.”

\---

_A Few Minutes Later_

“Okay, Steve, what’s going on? Other than Sam not having any boundaries.”

“ _Hey_.” Sam flicked Barnes in the ear. “I gave you stitches. I am taking care of you. Pulse and respiratory rate every thirty minutes. _Keeping you alive_.”

“The only thing that’s keeping me alive is the thought that when I can move again, I’m going to punch you in the face.”

“Oh really? That’s the only thing? Not the fact that I stopped you from bleeding out?” Sam flicked him again.

“ _Ow_. No, you didn’t. I was fine.”

“ _Like hell you were_.”

“Guys, c’mon.” Steve’s voice was patronizing and tired. “I have a headache. It’s bad enough you two had to fight off four Hydra agents without any support. Don't talk about how you both almost died.”

"I did not almost die," Sam said, chest swelling. "That was all Barnes."

"He's right. I almost died trying to save his ass."

"Barnes, please."

Barnes pushed himself up and gingerly righted himself in the seat next to Sam. He spared Sam a look before reaching out and planting his good hand on the back of Steve’s head. “Captain America gets headaches?”

Steve reached around the seat and smacked him on the knee. “Y’know what, Barnes--”

“ _What_?” Barnes grinned and pushed on Steve’s head before letting go.

“Sam  _Wilson_ gets headaches,” Sam cut in, leaning up against the passenger seat and staring out the front of the car, “so why don’t you shut up and let Steve fill you in?”

“Only because you asked so _nicely_. Yes, Steve?”

“All right,” Steve said, each syllable deliberate and dismissive of the little spat going on behind him. “Nat’s covering us on the quinjet the rest of the way to Houston. Tony suited up and is doing some recon. We’re about four hours away from Houston. Once we drop off the part, we got the rest of the night to rest up before we get Bucky to his appointment tomorrow.”

Sam noticed Barnes feeling around in his own pockets. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing. Steve, I don’t wanna put anybody out. If we need to drop off the part at the lab and leave, that’s okay. I can always come back another time after things blow over.”

“Buck, it’s fine. We gotta get you well.”

Barnes lifted up his hand. He had a plastic finger puppet from a coin machine on his index finger--a little monster with big teeth. “Bucky’s not here, Mrs. Torrence,” he said in a croaky voice, wiggling the toy.

Sam smacked his hand, and the toy went flying. “What the fuck, Barnes!”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Bucky,” said Steve with a glance over his shoulder.

“It’s from a movie…” Barnes said with the tiniest grin. He tried to retrieve the toy from the floor, winced, remembering the hole in his side, and stilled.

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. He leaned down and picked up the toy. Barnes tried to snatch it from him, but he snapped his arm away just in time.

“Give it!”

“No.”

“ _Now_ , Wilson!”

Sam rolled down the window and tossed the toy to its inevitable freeway death. “You are a grown ass man.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Stop threatening to kill me, Jason Bourne. It’s scary as hell.”

Barnes tried to punch Sam in the arm, remembered last minute that it would hurt, so the half-hearted fist collided harmlessly against Sam. But it was his injured arm, so it still _hurt_. “Ow! You little shit!” Sam smacked Barnes on the side of the head, and then they were both throwing hands and fists at each other. Barnes pinched him in the side and twisted, and Sam got a hold of Barnes’s hair, which then prompted Barnes to try and snap his wrist in half.

“Steve, he’s trying to kill me!” Sam shrieked.

“This is Rogers on the emergency com. I don’t want to be in this car anymore.” Steve's voice was so thin and weak, Sam had never heard him so hopeless. But there was nothing Sam could do about that, he had to take Barnes out.

Barnes grabbed Sam’s ear and yanked. “You threw away my toy, you heartless bastard!”

“Nat,” Steve raised his voice to be heard over the scuffle, “can we switch?”

“No way. Barnes and Wilson are _your_ problem.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky likes David Bowie, and Tony's super delicate engine part is delivered to the lab in Houston.
> 
> Apparently, Texas "sucks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in 90 minutes and I'm sorry if it sucks, but they made it! Kind of. ;)
> 
> there's more sambucky on my [new writing tumblr](http://rogerbarnewilson.tumblr.com), and my own sambucky tears are on [my main blog](http://samwichwilson.tumblr.com).

Steve said the first words uttered in the car in over an hour: “I’ve never been to Texas.”

“It sucks.” Barnes stared out the window.

“How do you know?” Sam asked.

“Because my uncle lived in Houston and it sucked. It takes forever to get anywhere. It’s too big, and I hate it.”

“Mmhmm.” Sam rolled his eyes and looked at Steve, who sat relaxed with one hand on the wheel and the other rested on the console.

“I won’t pass any judgment on Texas until I experience it myself,” Steve said, glancing in the rearview mirror at Barnes.

“Well, it sucks.”

Sam heard himself chuckle and he switched on the radio. The stitched up wound on his arm still stung like crazy, and the post-adrenaline exhaustion had hit both him and Bucky hard. They were a little over two hours outside of Houston, and Barnes’s injuries stabilized with surprising speed. None of them were exactly sure what they did to him in the war and after to make him so quick to heal, although the Wakandan science team had collected some samples to analyze. No definitive results from them yet, so it was anyone’s guess how quickly Barnes would heal.

“Sam,” said Barnes, “can you play that one song?”

“What song?”

“The one about space.”

Sam twisted in his seat and looked at Barnes. “Which one about space?”

“The daydream one.”

“Moonage Daydream?”

“Yeah! And all his other ones.”

\---

Sam spent the rest of the ride figuring out which songs of his Bucky actually liked and creating a playlist on his phone called ‘bucky’ so Bucky could learn all of the songs. Sam already made a playlist for Steve two years ago for the same reason. Lots of Bruce Springsteen and, to Sam’s disgust and surprise, late 90s boy bands.

_ They’re so bad they’re good _ ! Steve insisted.

Anyway.

Steve offered to drop Sam and Bucky off at the hotel while he took the Stark Industries part to the lab.

“No!” they both shouted in unison.

“Geez, okay!”

“We gotta finish this,” Sam said.

“Yeah, it was our job to deliver it,” Bucky said.

By the time they got to the lab and checked through security, Tony was already there talking with the R&D team. Among them was James Rhodes. Tony waved the rest of the team away and waved the three of them over.

“Hey, man,” Sam said, clasping hands with the former Air Force colonel.

“Hey.” Rhodey had a way of melting out of that ingrained military stiffness and radiating warmth anyway. He offered a smile. “Rogers. Barnes.”

It occurred to Sam that, while he had gone to see Rhodey a few times since getting back from the Raft, neither Steve nor Bucky had seen him yet. Steve took Rhodey’s hand and pulled him gently into a hug. “Rhodes, good to see you.”

“You look good,” said Barnes.

“You too.” Rhodey parted with Steve and Tony was uncharacteristically silent, staring at his feet.

“So,” Tony said, swinging his arms and clapping his hands together. “Rhodey here put together a team for T-1000.”

Barnes glanced between Rhodes and Tony. “Oh. Is that me?”

“Yeah, it’s you,” Sam said. “I’ll explain in the car.”

Rhodes took a step forward, still a bit tentative, but the concentration didn’t show at all on his face. He laid a hand on Barnes’s shoulder. “I read the report you and Natasha put together on what HYDRA did to you.”

Barnes stared at Rhodes for what felt like an hour. Then his brow crinkled and he inhaled sharply, looked down.

“We’ll do our best, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Rhodes. For everything.”

\---

Tony set them up with a hotel--the  _ honeymoon suite _ , he called it, barely able to contain the laughter at his own joke. The first thing on all of their minds was dinner, so once they consulted with Natasha, they put together an order of food from the nearest Chinese restaurant for delivery.

Sam showered the minute he got a chance. The last good shower he got was the morning they left on the trip three days ago, and he took his time--got a clean shave and everything. When he was done, he was sure he’d spent a solid twenty minutes enjoying the hot water and getting clean.

Towel wrapped around his waist, Sam went back to the bedroom area and sifted through his suitcase to find what remained of his clean clothes. Then there was a knock on the door.

“What?” Sam hollered.

“Can I come in?” Barnes,  _ of course _ . At least he knew how to knock.

“Yeah, sure.”

Barnes pushed open the door and stepped inside the bedroom. He had that pallor in his cheeks and he looked up at Sam with hollow eyes. A ghost stood in the doorway. “Steve just left to meet the delivery guy in the lobby.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I kill those guys?”

Sam looked up from his suitcase. His whole body stiffened because, for a second, he thought about lying. “Yeah,” Sam said with a small nod. “You did.”

Barnes frowned. He looked crushed. “Sam?”

“C’mere.” Sam sat down on his bed and patted the spot next to him. Barnes collapsed next to him and held his head in his hands.

“I--” He started.

Sam waited.

“I don’t remember the fight.”

“I don’t, either, it’s--”

Barnes turned toward him, hair covering part of his face, but his gaze piercing. “I don’t remember because the Soldier took over.”

Sam gaped. Remembering himself, he reset his face and swallowed. “Okay. What makes you think that?”

“I got shot, and I didn’t feel it. And--” Barnes lifted his shirt. His chest was black and blue.

“Barnes-- _ shit _ .” Sam got up and went to the medkit. He brought over some supplies. “Here.” Barnes let him apply a wrap around his middle. “I’m getting pretty good at putting you back together.”

“I didn’t feel a thing.” Barnes winced. “Hydra made sure of that.”

“Was the plan  _ not _ to kill those guys? ‘Cause they definitely wanted to kill us.”

“I don’t know.”

“You wanted to make the choice.”

“Yeah.”

“Adrenaline can do that to you, y’know.”

“I know, but…”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe it’s not the Soldier.”

“Maybe.”

Barnes quieted for half a minute. He didn’t sit back, he just remained hunched over on the edge of the bed. “I’m scared.”

“About tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I…” Barnes looked down at his mismatched hands. “I don’t want anything bad to happen. Rhodes--he didn’t have to do any of this shit for me.”

“You’re not used to people helping you, are you?”

“ _ No _ . I hate it. I used to take care of myself--and Steve, when he needed it. I’d rather… I wanna figure it out on my own.”

Sam considered his words with a soft sigh. “I get it.”

“I don’t wanna get experimented on again. I think I just wanna be me for a while. Whoever that is.”

Sam reached over and slammed his hand down on Barnes’s knee, squeezing. “Then let’s go.”

“Go?”

“Home. Right now. Before Steve gets back.” Sam got up, leaving Barnes staring at him with wide eyes. Sam pulled a pair of clean underwear out of his suit case--white and covered in Captain America shields.

Barnes half laughed, half coughed. “You’re crazy!”

“Get your shit, and let’s go. Or do you wanna try and explain this to Steve?”

\---

“Guys, I’m back!”

Steve set down the bag of Chinese takeout on the coffee table in the living space. Everything was suspiciously quiet. There was a purple yo-yo sitting discarded on the couch with its string pulled halfway out. Attached to it was a note.

_ Hey, Steve, we left because I chickened out. We took the car. I’ll call Rhodes in the morning about everything. It’s too hard to explain. See you back at the compound. Sam and I are gonna swing by New Orleans on the way back. _

_ Love,  
_ _ Buck _

“God fucking shit.” Steve knew cursing at the note wouldn’t bring Sam and Bucky back, but he felt it all the same. He sighed and looked at the big empty suite, and the bag of takeout on the coffee table. He took out his phone and dialed Natasha.

“Yeah, hey. Bucky and Sam left, and do you wanna come ov--okay, see you soon.”

\---

They were only fifteen minutes out of the city when Barnes suddenly burst out laughing. This hurt his broken ribs so he tried to stop himself, and he curled up into a ball in his seat as tears streamed down his face. “What?” Sam snapped.

“You--you have--”

“What!” Sam laughed, too, only because Barnes was cracking himself up for no discernable reason.

“You have Captain America underwear, you doofus!”

“Of course I have Captain America underwear!”

They laughed for a while until it got to be too much for Barnes, who stifled himself into a few chuckles before calming down. It was dark and Sam’s exhaustion would hit him soon. They had to make good time to another shitty motel.

“You okay with this?” Sam checked one last time.

“Yeah. I feel like a weight’s been lifted off me. I feel pretty good, I think.” Barnes looked over at him. “Are you okay?”

“I am. Thanks. I mean, I’m tired.”

“Oh.” Barnes pressed his lips together. “You’re okay being with me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not really… Something could happen.”

“So?”

“I was just checking.”

“Barnes, you don’t scare me.” Sam glanced over at him and smirked. “We’re cool.”

“Okay. Okay, good.” Barnes took out his phone and snorted. “Natasha just texted me a picture.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Natasha took a selfie of her and Steve eating chicken lo mein, and she was flipping off the camera. A message accompanied the picture: (: you fuckers are missing out xoxo

"Chinese food sounds so good right now," Sam whined and hit his hand on the steering wheel. "Damn it!"

“Also, Sam…” said Barnes. “It’s also gonna be more than twenty-six hours back to the compound if we go to New Orleans.”

Sam shook his head. “Good thing I’ve got about a hundred playlists.”


End file.
